


Bad Day

by ostentatiouslyrealistic



Series: Timeless Moments [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ostentatiouslyrealistic/pseuds/ostentatiouslyrealistic
Summary: Shirabu has a bad day. Kawanishi helps.





	Bad Day

"What's with you today? Your setting is crap today!"

Shirabu seethes as Washijou-sensei spits out more and more criticisms. He _knows_ he's off today, judging by the fact that Ushijima's missed spikes outnumber his points scored. The failing English grade sitting in his backpack weighs heavily in mind, equally as burdensome as the conversation he had with his teacher about making up the assignment. It's definitely distracting him enough to mess up practice.

At this point, he's not the only one who's red faced with anger. Washijou-sensei looks as if he's about to burst a vein, face turning an alarming shade of scarlet as he shoots criticism after criticism at him. It's not as if Shirabu can't take them—he can. It's just that he already _knows_ that he's messing up, and to have it pointed out to him just fills him up with more irritation.

Practice seems endless, and the more Shirabu tries to balance out thoughts of his grade, his papers, his homework, and volleyball, the more mistakes occur as the ball leaves his hands too early or too late. It isn't until Ushijima misses his seventh spike in a row that the captain turns to the coach to ask him to end practice. With his nose up in the air as he side eyes Shirabu, their coach agrees. The passive aggressive behavior doesn't sit too well on the setter's shoulders.

Shame as well as frustration well up in a bubbling mess, and he doesn't bother stretching, opting to grab his stuff from his locker and slam the door with more force than necessary, causing the metal to rattle loudly. He ignores everyone, pointedly avoiding Kawanishi's gaze, as he sprints from the gym, sneakers pounding the concrete heavily.

Even the weather seems to rally against him. The sun beating down on him only strengthens his fit of irritation, and the humidity makes to suffocate him.

By the time he's back in his room, he's sure it's possible to drown in one's own sweat and humiliation. And he sucks in a large breath of air, holding it before releasing it slowly, trying to calm his body and tame his ever growing frustration and embarrassment. Though he's sure he could pass out easily, he opts to shower before settling on his clean sheets.

Cleanliness feels wonderful, and he humorlessly relates it to purging himself of the negative feelings, though he knows that never works—he's a salt mine through and through.

He throws himself onto the bed, grabbing his pillow and curling around it tightly, eyes trained on the peeling paint on the walls. The day's events play by in his head no matter how hard he tries to suppress them, and he groans.

Stewing in his thoughts, he buries his face deeper into his pillow, mentally weighing the consequences of suffocation by pillow until a soft knock sounds at his door. Immediately he knows who it is and debates feigning sleep.

"Kenjirou, let me in." The voice is soft, comforting—Shirabu can't resist it—and he hesitates before sliding out of bed, unlocking the door, and returning to his previous position, determined to stay somewhat bitter. He hears him enter with quiet footsteps and the door shut with a soft click. A soft sigh and breathy laughter decidedly melts his heart, but he stays resolute, hugging the pillow closer to his body.

The bed dips, and he feels gangly arms wrap themselves around his hips, pulling him against a lean chest. Kawanishi sighs deeply, and Shirabu feels the warm air brush against the back of his neck, causing him to shiver lightly.

He feels Kawanishi's usual greeting with a kiss on the nape of his neck, lips curving into a small smile. His arms tighten on the pillow. Kawanishi never greets with words, preferring to stay quiet and speak with actions, of which Shirabu has a love-hate relationship with. On one hand, he loves the sweet gestures his boyfriend performs, but on the other, he also loves hearing his soft, patient voice—it never fails to calm him down or bring a blush to his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The words are whispered, breath tickling his skin, and Shirabu shakes his head in response, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat. As if he can feel the buildup of emotions, Kawanishi tightens his arms around him and presses another light kiss to his skin.

They stay in that position until Kawanishi's breathing evens out, and Shirabu finally huffs a laugh, cautiously turning his head to see that he's fallen asleep. _Of course,_ he thinks, amusement quickly replacing the negative emotions. Of course Kawanishi could make him feel better just by simply _being_ Kawanishi. As carefully as he can, he loosens his grip on the pillow and turns, freezing when Kawanishi stirs, eyebrows furrowing as he presses Shirabu closer.

After a few moments of maneuvering and freezing, he finally manages to turn onto his other side. Burying his face into the head of tawny hair, he takes a deep breath and sighs, lightly running his fingers through the messy locks. Kawanishi sighs in content, and it's not long before Shirabu drifts off after him.

**Author's Note:**

> Waking up:
> 
> "Kenjirou, I can't feel my arm."
> 
> "And whose fault is that."
> 
> Neither of them move from their positions.
> 
> [tumblr](http://www.shrimpyboke.tumblr.com)


End file.
